


The First Meeting

by In_Suspense



Series: Beyond The Way [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23074996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Suspense/pseuds/In_Suspense
Summary: While hunting a notorious crime lord, Din Djarin teams up with an unfamiliar Mandalorian, who just happens to be a woman. They form a friendship and possibly a little bit more. Set approximately 12 years before the current events of the show.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character; The Mandalorian/Original Female Character, The Mandalorian/Original Female Character(s); Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s);
Series: Beyond The Way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658395
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	The First Meeting

The first time he met her, Din was fighting five heavily-armed Abyssins on the desert plains of Rynock. He had gone to Rynock to catch a bounty: Jaros Slan, a nefarious, senior-member of the Gangar syndicate who rose to power not only through his ability to traffic and smuggle weapons and slaves throughout the Outer Rim, but also his willingness to sabotage anyone, including his own associates, who stood in his path to the top. Word on the street had it his ingenuity went too far when he tried to double cross his own syndicate with the rival Hattar-Un crime family over a large shipment of spice. The plan backfired, resulting in both syndicates putting out pucks with any and all bounty organizations and freelancers throughout the Mid and Outer Rims, including the Guild, which was how Din came to currently find himself being slashed at on all sides by vibro-axes.

Din grunted as the tallest Abyssin hacked his left arm; the blade fortunately struck his pauldron instead of his flesh, causing sparks to fly. Din kicked the Abyssin in the chest before he could try to strike again, causing the grunt to fall over backward. Two new thugs immediately appeared and flanked him on his sides. Using his blaster, Din shot the one to his right in the head, and then turned slightly to his left, flinging his vibro-knife in the direction of the other attacker. Din had only a half a second to watch as his knife sunk satisfyingly into the Abyssin’s single, giant eye before he felt his legs swipe out from under him and he fell hard onto his back with a thud. He tried to sit up but felt the pulsing of a vibro-axe sharp against the gray fabric of his neck seal. “Stay down, Mando,” growled a fourth Abyssin, “or I’ll cut off your head.”

Din watched as the tall Abyssin he had just knocked down got back up on his feet. “Take him to Slan,” the apparent leader snarled as he kicked Din’s blaster out of his hand. The other two grunts yanked Din to his feet and began dragging him towards Slan’s walled compound visible in the hazy distance. “Slan’s going to have fun with you,” one of the Abyssins hissed tauntingly. First thing he’ll do is pull off that metal bucket you wear and …”

Before Din could hear what torture Slan had in store for him, his captor suddenly fell face forward, dead in a shower of sparks. The two remaining Abyssins howled in fury and looked around them in confusion, trying to locate the source of their comrade’s sudden demise. Din crouched down as two red blaster bolts sped in their direction and exploded into the heads of the last two thugs.

Din whirled around, trying to find the source of the mysterious sniper shots. He knew the bolts came from somewhere in the direction of the rocky ledge over fifteen hundred feet away; whoever made those shots was an expert marksman and he did not want to be on the receiving end of another round. However, there was little cover on the dusty desert ground, and the walled compound where Slan was hiding was still over a klick away. Din grabbed his blaster and scanned the rocky outcrop, hoping to spot some sort of movement that would give the sniper’s location away. He suddenly spotted a figure standing on the ledge, not even bothering to hide themselves from his view. He zoomed in on his visor and was stunned to observe what appeared to be another Mando’ad climbing out of the rocks. The person was wearing a beskar helmet painted white with blue and silver designs, and from the design of the face plate, it appeared to be a female. She had a similarly painted chest plate, shoulder pauldrons, and thigh armor, but that was all Din noticed before he realized she was quickly covering the ground between them and from her body language, she did not look happy.

A blue half-cloak flowed behind her petite figure as she stormed down the rocky path towards Din. She slung her rifle behind her, reattaching it next to what appeared to be a techstaff. As she grew closer, he holstered his blaster and stepped over the bodies of the fallen Abyssins.

“Su cuy’gar,” he called out to her in Mando’a.

“Hello my ass,” she retorted as she neared him. “What were you thinking engaging those Monocs right in sight of the compound? Did you think Slan would just somehow fail to notice he was under attack?” Before Din could reply, the unmistakable roar of a ship taking off came in the direction of the compound. Din watch in dismay as a Mankvim-418 blasted off in the opposite direction.

“Shit,” cried the woman, “there he goes. Five fucking weeks of work down the drain, thanks to you.”

“You’re tracking Slan too?” Din asked, dumbstruck. “Are you with the Guild?”

“No. A private contract. What the hell were you planning to do, just walk up to the compound and take him down? Do you have any idea who Slan is?” she spat.

“I don’t need to explain my strategy to you,” he retorted, though that, in fact, had exactly been his plan.

“Doesn’t look like you had much strategy at all.” She paused and then sighed. “Since I just saved your ass, you can pay back your debt to me in credits.”

Din barked out a laugh. “My debt to you? Are you out of your mind? You didn’t save me from anything, I was doing just fine. And if you hadn’t interfered, those remaining Monocs would’ve taken me straight to Slan, where I could’ve captured him. So I think you can repay me for my time.”

“You’re a cocky bastard, aren’t you” she snorted. “Typical arrogant, male bounty hunter.”

Din sighed. He didn’t want to fight with her. He hadn’t seen another Mando’ad outside of his own covert for months and he had to admit he was intrigued with her. She might be petite, but she was definitely fierce.

“Look,” he said, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture, “I didn’t know you were on this job. You wanna regroup, maybe share intel on Slan?”

She stared at him for a minute then and shrugged her shoulders. “Fine. You have a ship?”

“Yeah, in the shipyard outside of town,” he replied.

“Good. Let’s go.” She turned and started heading back in the direction of the small town a few miles away.

Din shook his head and walked over to one of the bodies, yanking his vibro-knife out of the dead Abyssin’s eye.

“Sixty forty,” she called out to him over her shoulder.

“What?”

“Sixty forty, that’s how we’ll split the reward. Sixty percent going to me,” she clarified.

“Are you out of your mind?” he inquired as he jogged to catch up to her. “I’m not splitting anything with you.”

“You will when you realize you have no idea where Slan went,” she replied.

He snorted. “And you do?”

“Yes. Unlike you, I’ve been carefully scouting him out for five weeks. When I tracked him here a little over a week ago, I’ve been surveilling him ever since. And, I put a tracker on his ship,” she said smugly.

 _Huh. She’s clever too._ “Why do you need me then?”

She remained silent for a minute, before confessing: “My port thrusters have been spotty and just blew out when I entered atmo. I need the credits from Slan’s reward to repair them.”

“Sounds like you are in no position to set terms then,” Din said, failing to keep the humor out of his voice.

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “Remember that when you blow through your credits spending the next month trying to find him,” she retorted. “Meanwhile, I have his coordinates right here.” She tapped her silver vambrace.

Din sighed. She was right. Slan’s reward was large, but he was going to spend it all before he even got it, between the costs of fuel and tipping off informants. He had already spent a hefty amount just tracking him to Rynock.

“Fine. But sixty forty, in my favor. I’m the one fronting the ship, the supplies, the fuel. And if your intel is bad, you reimburse all expenses.”

“Fifty five, forty five,” she countered. “And my intel is never bad.”

“Alright,” he consented after a brief pause. In truth, he would have done it for a fifty fifty split, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Good, it’s settled then.” She suddenly turned off the path and headed toward a patch of boulders.

“Town’s that way,” Din called out, pointing towards the east.

“I know. You better hurry out of here before some of those Abyssins regenerate,” she replied.

Din watched in confusion as she dipped behind the boulders and then suddenly roared off towards town on a speeder bike. He stopped and stared in amazement before shaking his head and continuing on his way. The next few days were certainly going to keep him on his toes.

********************************************

As Din trudged back towards the town, his mind could not help but wander to the mystery woman. It had been a long time since he had run into any Mando’ad out in the field, much less a female. He wondered if he would have been as willing to split the reward if it had been a man instead, and concluded that he would, although he may not have been as generous with the terms. He didn’t care if she was a woman, he convinced himself; he was just glad to see a fellow Mando’ad alive and well in these difficult times since the Purge. Although, despite her small size, she certainly didn’t seem like she had any trouble taking care of herself.

After what felt like hours, Din finally reached the shipyard. As he approached the Razor Crest, he spotted the woman standing near the entrance to the main loading ramp. He lowered the ramp remotely from his vambrace and watched as her navy cape fluttered around her as vapor was released by the hydraulics. Din couldn’t help but notice that despite her well-fitted armor, she had a lovely figure. She wore tight leggings in the same blue as her cape, as well a double-sleeved tunic top that reached the tops of her thighs and disappeared underneath her helmet. Her sniper rifle and techstaff were slung over her shoulder and a blaster hung from her hip. Din had no reason to doubt she had other various blades hidden on her person. All in all, she made a very striking image.

He stopped in front of her and gave her a nod of his head. She nodded once back, and he asked, “How’d you know this was my ship?”

“I’ve been keeping track of all the ships coming in and out of the docks. Yours is the only one I didn’t recognize.” She jerked her head at a stack of cargo containers and bags sitting at her feet. “Help me with these.”

“Planning on making yourself at home?” he quipped.

“These contain valuable equipment and supplies that I’m not leaving unattended on my ship. And, they may come in handy.”

With that, she grabbed several bags of the bags and made her way into the ship. Din rolled his eyes, grabbed the remaining cargo, and followed behind her.

After showing her where to store her things, and giving her the grand tour of the Crest (consisting of pointing out the refresher and sleeping quarters), Din headed towards the cockpit.

“What’re our coordinates?” he called down to her.

“None, right now,” she called back. “My tracker shows he’s still in hyperdrive. Knowing Slan, he will stay in hyperdrive for several hours, then jump again to throw off a trail. If you want to save fuel, best to wait a bit before going anywhere.”

“What?” he countered. “The whole reason I made a deal with you was because you said you knew his location. And now you want us to just sit here?”

“Settle down and take it easy for a while,” she consoled. “I’ll know the coordinates once he drops out of hyperspace and we can leave then. But if you really want to burn through your fuel, go ahead and put the ship in orbit.”

Din huffed but said nothing; she had a point. It was better to conserve fuel, especially now that he was losing nearly half the reward by bringing her on board. But, not wanting her to know that she was right, Din kept himself occupied in the cockpit. He checked and double-checked all ship diagnostics (they were unchanged since his last analysis), checked and then re-checked any new communications (he had none), and scoured the holonet for any new information he may have missed on Slan (nothing). He heard banging and shuffling coming from the hold down below, which he assumed meant she was unpacking and organizing her things. He felt strange and slightly uncomfortable knowing he was sharing his private and personal space with another person. Sure, he shared with his bounties, but they were always frozen in carbonite and thus kept to themselves.

After two hours, the noise from below had quieted and Din smelled something delicious wafting up to the cockpit. Was she actually cooking? The Crest had a small area to prepare food, but he couldn’t recall a time he ever actually used it. He typically relied on eating ration bars and pre-heat meals, but sometimes, when he was feeling especially indulgent, he would splurge at a cantina and take food to go. However, he never remembered any of those meals smelling as good as from whatever it was she was doing down there.

“Are you ever coming down from there?” she called. “Dinner’s ready.”

Din slowly climbed down the ladder. She was holding a tray of what looked like fresh bread and some sort of meat and vegetable dish.

“Thank you,” he said. “That was kind of you to prepare food, but certainly not necessary. My galley is fully stocked.”

She scoffed. “I don’t eat ration bars unless I absolutely have to. Here, take this. Do you have a divider?”

“A what?” he asked.

“A divider,” she repeated slowly. “So that we can take our helmets off and eat at the same time? Or were you planning on sneaking back up to your cockpit to eat alone?”

Din didn’t let her know that was exactly what he planning on doing.

“I don’t have a divider. No one ever eats in here but me.”

She huffed and looked around. “Well, go stack up those crates over there. You take one side and I’ll take the other.”

Din just looked at her in surprise. He had used large, metal dividers on occasion years ago at his covert to share a meal with one or two others, but had never done it with a complete stranger, and never using anything so informal as stacked shipping crates. However, failing to see the harm, he stacked up three of the solid containers, creating a five foot tall barrier.

“Here,” she said, handing him the tray.

“Thank you,” he replied, taking the food to the other side of the barrier. He let out a small groan as he eased down to the ground; he was sore from the fight with the Abyssins and the long walk to and from the compound. His stomach growled as he smelled the meal before him, but he couldn’t bring himself to take his helmet off. He listened as she shuffled around before walking over to sit on the other side of the crates. He heard the hiss of her helmet releasing from her neck seal and only then did he finally remove his own.

The first bite of the meat dish tasted divine, and he couldn’t help emit a small moan of pleasure.

She chuckled. “I’m guessing you don’t eat fresh meals too often.” Her voice without its modulator was light and clear. Din’s heart unexpectedly caught in his throat.

“No,” he choked out. “This is…wonderful. Thank you.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

“So what’s your story?” she asked. “Where did you train?”

He paused for a moment. Providing personal details about himself to anyone was not something he usually did. But, she was a fellow Mando’ad. She understood the lifestyle and it couldn’t hurt to tell her a little about himself.

“My parents were killed in a droid attack when I was eight, and I was rescued and taken in as a foundling. When I started my training, my buir was based on Xela. After I swore the Creed, I trained at various enclaves: Magaru, Galidraan IV, the moons of Monmoth…”

“If you trained at Galidraan IV, you may have run into my brother,” she said. “He trained there for a while after he took the helmet, and I believe he also helped train younger warriors there at some point.”

“Yeah? Who’s your brother?”

“Name’s Paz Vizla. He’s a big guy. Likes big blasters.”

“Paz Vizla is your brother,” Din replied dubiously.

“Older brother, yes. I like to say that what he got in size, I got in brains.”

Din couldn’t help but snort. “I remember him well, and my arm he broke when we were sparring during a training session.”

She laughed. “That sounds like him. Even when he tries to hold back, he sometimes forgets his own strength. I hope you got even?”

“Yes…” Din paused. “Though not quite honorably. When he came over to help me up, I kicked him…somewhere…I shouldn’t have. Hard.”

She laughed harder.

Din chuckled too. It felt good to open up to her. “I’m not proud of it, but I was young. And in pain.”

“That explains why one of the first armor upgrades he ever got was a codpiece,” she snickered.

“Is he doing well then?” Din asked.

“Yes, quite well, though bored. We share ownership of a ship and he takes on the odd mercenary or security job now and then, but he’s very discriminating as to what clients he will take. He spends a lot of time training our covert’s foundlings with weapons and tactics.”

“That’s good. Next time you see him, let him know Din Djarin wishes him well.” Din was surprised he gave her his name this early on after just meeting her, but he felt a certain connection with her, a comfort level he hadn’t felt with someone else in a long time.

“Well, Din Djarin, I think you should tell him yourself. If you’ve never been to our enclave before, consider yourself formally invited by Calista Vizla.”

 _Calista_ , he thought. It was a pretty name. It matched her voice.

“That’s kind of you. Where is your covert based?” he asked.

“Nevarro,” she replied. “It’s certainly nothing fancy, but we have a full facility: med bay, residences, training rooms, and one of the best armorers I’ve ever known. Where are you based?”

“Ellorian.”

“Ellorian? I visited there when I was young, but there’s not much of a covert left now, is there?

Din thought for a moment. “There’s a few partnered couples that reside there, and several older warriors, mostly retired from battle.”

“Any foundlings?”

“No foundlings. All the children have grown up and moved on.”

“Doesn’t sound like a very happening place for a warrior in his prime,” she commented.

“I only go there occasionally to get armor repaired and to donate earnings. Since I got this ship, it’s been my home,” he said simply.

She hummed in reply. “I’ve heard of the covert on Nevarro,” he continued, “but I’ve never gone. Word is, a chapter of the Guild is trying to startup there. Maybe I’ll visit sometime.”

In truth, he had heard good things about the new covert on Nevarro. Joxa, one of the older warriors on Ellorian, and an old friend of his buir, had encouraged him to seek out the enclave on one of his last visits. “There’s nothing left here on Ellorian, Din, except dusty rooms and old memories. Go to Nevarro. Meet new comrades and enjoy your life,” Joxa had urged him. Still, Din never felt he had a reason to seek it out before. Maybe he would now, just to see what it was like.

“I hope you do,” Calista replied, jarring him from his thoughts.

They continued eating in companionable silence. Din found that he was enjoying himself and her conversation. She was smart, could clearly handle herself in battle, and was a good cook. He never thought of having a partner before, but he could see the benefit of splitting bounties if it was with someone as useful as her. Although, she still had yet to prove herself in finding Slan’s location and actually capturing him. He chided himself for letting his thoughts run away with him.

“I’m getting up now,” she said, her voice modified once again by her helmet. “Want anything else? A shot of tihaar?”

“You’ve got real tihaar?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes, there are a few members of my covert that specialize in distilling it. Don’t tell me you haven’t had any in a while?”

Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

***************************************************

Din slept well that night, especially considering he was sharing his ship with another living, breathing person. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that since he got the Crest, and figured probably never. He further surprised himself by offering Calista the use of his own tiny cabin. She declined and graciously accepted the small bunk in the main cargo area, but the fact he had even offered it to her baffled him to no end. He was woken the next morning by a knock at his bulkhead.

“Yeah,” he called out, trying to disguise the sleepiness from his voice.

“I’ve got coordinates on Slan. He already jumped twice in the night, first to the Vega system and then Solanis. He’s now on Frong, and hasn’t jumped for hours, so I think he’s hunkering down.”

Din slid on his helmet and reached for his armor. “Ok, you wanna take off?” _Wait, what?_ He just offered her to fly the Crest; he never trusted anyone to fly his ship. Ever.

“Anything I should know about your ship?” she asked in response, her voice betraying a mild surprise.

“Uh…” Din thought for a second, wondering if he should retract his offer, but then realized he would just feel stupid. “She favors the starboard engine once you hit pre-atmo, and the auto pilot can be glitchy during ascent, so better to use visual flight until you break planet gravity…”

“Got it. I made some breakfast and brewed fresh caff. Help yourself.”

Din hummed quietly in appreciation. He waited until he heard her climb into the cockpit and begin the Crest’s pre-ignition sequence. He hurriedly threw on his armor, made a quick stop at the ‘fresher, and grabbed a fast meal before heading up to join her.

*********************************************************

Frong was a bust. As was the mining encampment on Ligo, the lava moons of Oricon, and the jungles of Hissrich. Din quickly realized he had underestimated Slan’s cunning and ability to detect a trap and throw a tail, despite having a tracker, and appreciated why the reward for Slan was so high. He also understood Calista’s initial frustration at him for chasing off Slan when he openly confronted the Abyssins on Rynock. He didn’t tell her that though, and he still thought his plan would have worked. Well, might have worked. Maybe. Slan was just too clever and ruthless, too willing to throw his own hired thugs into the firing line as decoys, and wealthy enough to be able to continue to replace said thugs when they met the untimely ends meant for him.

The only plus side to the increasingly frustrating situation, in Din’s opinion, and it was a big plus, was his growing admiration for his new partner. Temporary partner, he reminded himself. Calista was tough and good in a fight. He witnessed this firsthand on Toresh, when, much to his to his delight, she easily took out four Zelloans twice her size before she finally asked if he cared to help. Not only could she fight, but her greatest strengths lay in her surveillance and intelligence-gathering abilities. Din learned that Calista usually worked as the tech expert on a specialized crew and was able to infiltrate and hack into nearly any computer system on any type of ship or network in the Mid and Outer Rims, no matter how secure, to locate her target. Her particular skills were what enabled her to track Slan for weeks without him being none the wiser, until Din showed up, that is.

To his pleasant surprise, Calista did not hold the events on Rynock against him. Rather, she treated him as an equal partner with an equally useful skill set. She also continued to cook a full fresh and hot meal at least once a day, and always invited him to dine with her as they had the first night. At one point, Din, feeling vaguely like he should reciprocate, suggested he might cook for her (or at least heat up a couple of his packaged meals), but she waved him off and told him cooking for two was no harder than cooking for herself as she always did.

During those meals, she told him about herself and her family. She was eight years younger than her brother Paz, who was four years older than himself. Their father was killed in battle when she was just five, and Calista was raised and taught by her mother while Paz was sent to various enclaves for corps training. When Calista swore the Creed and left for further training at sixteen, her mother and several other members of their covert on Tashei were killed by Imps in a raid.

“I hate the Imps,” Calista proclaimed, downing a shot of tihar. “I have a contact with the Rebels who sometimes needs surveillance or intel on Imperial targets. I do those jobs for free. Whatever it takes to bring down those bastards…” After Calista shared that particular story, she and Din sat in silence for the remainder of the night, knocking back more shots of tihar than they probably should have.

On other nights, Calista would recount entertaining tales of the various jobs she had undertaken with her crew, along with amusing stories about each of the members. She contracted with a group of five other individuals, none Mando’ade, who performed various mercenary, security and the occasional bounty hunting work. They were not affiliated with any particular organization or guild and would meet up no more than a few times a year to take on only high value work. When he asked her why the team was not helping her catch Slan, she replied that her fellow crew members had accepted work from Slan in the past. They either felt a sort of misguided loyalty, or, more likely, were afraid to cross him.

“I feel no such devotion to anyone other than my tribe,” she declared, “and credits are credits.”

Din could certainly respect that sentiment. He wasn’t as open about himself and his past as she was, but if she asked him a direct question, he would answer and sometimes, to his astonishment, found himself elaborating. He even found himself looking forward to their conversations.

One night in hyperspace after their evening meal, while playing the Mogadu version of Sabacc (no-holds, double draw), their conversation drifted to the topic of sex.

“There’s a warrior in my covert,” Calista said, tossing a card into the growing pile while plucking another two from the stack, “who wagers their services instead of credits when playing this version.”

“What services do they have to offer that would be more appealing than credits?” Din asked blankly while placing his wager on the table. “Weapon-making?”

“Not quite…” she said slowly. “Think more in the bedroom area.”

Din choked and Calista laughed. “Does anyone actually call his bluff?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh it’s no bluff; _she_ tends to lose quite frequently and she always pays her debts.”

“I really gotta go to your covert,” Din said dryly, tossing his cards on the table. Calista chuckled and showed her hand. Din sighed as Calista swept the credits to her side of the table. She picked up the cards and began shuffling. “Are you not partnered with anyone?” she asked curiously.

Din hesitated for a second before answering. “No.”

“A virgin, are you?” she asked teasingly.

“What? No!” he sputtered. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m kidding,” she said, trying to suppress her laughter. “Though that did get quite a reaction out of you. Touchy subject?”

“No,” he said emphatically. “I just wasn’t expecting that ridiculous question.”

Calista dealt the cards and then picked up her hand. “Well…tell me all about your exploits,” she said playfully. “It’s not like we have anything else to occupy the time. We still have hours of hyperspace…”

Din huffed and organized his hand. “We can keep playing cards.”

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “Just trying to keep things interesting.” She tossed some credits on the table, grabbed two more cards, and looked at him expectantly.

“Alright,” he conceded, “if I win this next hand, I get all my credits back. If I lose, I’ll tell you one… exploit.” He spat out the last word. _I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this_ , he thought.

“Hmmm, it does appear you need the credits more than me,” she said, pausing to look pointedly around at the sparse interior of the ship while Din rolled his eyes, “but your exploit story better be something more exciting than you and your hand alone in your bunk.”

Din rolled his eyes again before dropping his cards on the table. “So says the lady that can’t afford to fix her ship. Show me your cards,” he ordered. Calista dropped her cards on the table. “Oh look,” she said brightly, “I’ve won again.” Din groaned while Calista leaned back in her chair. “Let’s hear it.”

“Ok.” Din paused. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Tell me about your first time,” she said encouragingly.

“My first time…I was sixteen. I had just sworn the Creed and so had she. We were assigned to fight in a sparring match. It got intense and I was a little too rough in my desire to win. Afterwards, I felt bad and went to her room to apologize. She said I could make it up to her in other ways. One thing led to another, and…” Din broke off. “And that’s that.”

“Well,” she said. “That was incredibly boring, and not what I won.”

Din huffed. “What do you want, a play by play? Let’s hear you do better.”

“Oh no,” she teased, “my exploits, though infinitely more interesting, weren’t part of the deal. Try again.”

Din sighed and thought for a second. “Ok. I once worked on a crew with a Twi’lek. She was crazy, and dangerous. But, she wanted me and at that time, I wasn’t picky.” Calista snorted. “I only had one rule with her though.”

“Oh? What was it?” Calista asked.

“She had to be handcuffed. Both hands, during...”

“Why?” Calista sat up, intrigued. “Were you afraid she’d try to take off your helm?’

“Yeahnthat… or knife me. I think she would’ve found either option appealing.”

Calista laughed. “And she was ok with this arrangement?”

“Yeah. More than ok.”

“Well wasn’t this fun.” Calista swept up the cards and credits, before standing up and stretching. “But I’m off to bed. ‘Night!”

Din shook his head.

Later that evening in his cabin, he thought back to his first time, back to when he was sixteen, with Synah. The night he went to her room to apologize, she turned off all the lights and pulled him down onto her bed. They were both so new to the Creed that they were afraid to take their helmets off even in the complete darkness, but those were the only items that remained on their bodies. He was so excited that as soon as he touched her firm, round breasts, he came all over her thighs. He was mortified, but she gently took his hands between her own and showed him how to pleasure her. They practiced many times after that, until he came to know her body as well as his own. A few months later she was transferred away for medic training. He never saw her again.

 _Gods_ , he thought as he took himself in hand, _it’s been too long since I visited the brothel on Dantooine_. He had a girl there who knew just what he liked and asked no questions about his helmet.

Still, despite the years, he remembered the smoothness of Synna’s supple skin beneath his own and the feel of her soft hand caressing him. But as he jerked and came with a stifled moan, it was Calista’s voice he imagined calling out his name.

****************************************************

They tracked Slan to a mining colony on a small ice moon in the Jandu system. Calista hacked into the colony’s communications system from her datapad while Din put the Crest into high orbit.

“Got him,” Calista said while punching at her tablet.

Din looked over at her from the pilot’s seat.

“He’s hunkered down about three klicks from town in an abandoned storage facility.”

“How many are with him?”

“Hard to say, the surveillance system in the facility is offline. But knowing Slan, he’s got anywhere between five to ten cronies with him. Looks like he’s been here about five days. Long enough for him to start feeling like he’s thrown our tail.”

“What’s the layout of the facility?” Din asked.

“Hang on, pulling up the schematics now.... Two loading docks, both facing north, and a main entrance on the south side. Looks like he landed his ship on top of the warehouse,” she answered.

Din nodded. “How do you wanna play this?”

Calista sniggered. “Are you re-thinking that ‘charge in and take no prisoners’ strategy?”

Din huffed. “Let’s see you do better,” he grumbled.

“I’m actually inclined to agree with you this time,” she replied. “We’ve chased him from system to system, worn down his defenses, and I think the time is ripe to strike. We land in town, rent two speeders, and at night, approach the warehouse from the west. There’s an atmospheric blizzard forecast tonight that should provide excellent cover. He’ll be expecting danger from the direction of town and will focus his grunts at the main entrance.”

“And what if he makes it to his ship?” Din asked.

“We blow the ship first. One way or the other, this ends here.”

Din nodded. “I can put a remote detonator on the ship. You put one on each dock and then we’ll meet up at the front, hit the trigger and wait for them to come out the main doors.”

“I like it,” Calista laughed. “What can go possibly go wrong?”

***************************************************************

Much to Din and Calista’s surprise, their plan went off without a hitch. They soon found themselves ankle deep in bloody snow surrounded by the remains of Slan’s Kartoni bodyguards. Slan stood alone before them and spread his arms out wide in a pacifying gesture.

“Congratulations. You’ve caught me. Many before you have tried and failed, but they weren’t Mandalorians, were they? I could use bodyguards like you, and I will pay generously for your service.”

Din and Calista remained silent.

“Not interested in working for me? Then let’s cut to the quick,” Slan continued. “You’re here for money, and I have plenty. Above all else, I’m a business man. Let’s negotiate and make a deal. Name your price to let me go, and we’ll call it even.”

“Don’t insult us,” Calista retorted. “We get paid whether you are alive or dead. Choose quickly.”

Slan’s face distorted in rage and Din raised his blaster.

“Cuff him,” he said to Calista.

She pulled out her bindings and warily approached Slan. Just as she reached for his arm, he yanked away from her grasp and drew a vibro-blade out from underneath his long cloak. He slashed at Calista and she whirled away, reaching behind her to unsheathe her techstaff. Slan slashed again, but before she could even block his strike, he flew backwards onto the snow, chest smoking from the blaster shot. Calista looked over at Din, who lowered his blaster. “Guess he chose dead.”

Calista exhaled loudly with relief. “It’s done.”

“Yeah. You ok?” he asked as he holstered his blaster.

“Yeah, you?”

“Fine. Let’s get him loaded up.”

They dragged Slan’s corpse back towards the hill where they had hidden their speeders. Din turned to look behind in the swirling storm for any potential threats. “Anything?” she called out.

“I don't see anyone following us, but Slan is leaving a blood trail.”

Calista turned and looked at the streak of red snow following their tracks. “You shot him with a blaster, he shouldn’t be bleeding at all.”

Din looked at the blood and then Slan, before training his helmet on her. “It’s you.”

Calista dropped Slan’s arm and looked down at her front. “It can’t be from me, I wasn’t hit. I don’t feel anything.”

Din stepped over Slan, grabbed Calista’s shoulders and spun her around. “What are you…”

“It’s your leg,” he said, reaching down to touch the back of her thigh. “Can’t you feel that?”

Calista peered her head around her back. Her right legging was soaked with blood and she saw a cut in the back of her upper thigh, just above the strap that attached her armor.

“Fuck,” she said. “He must’ve laced his blade with Alvoric venom.”

Din looked at her. His mouth suddenly went dry and his heart skipped a beat. Alvoric venom contained a powerful anesthetic, causing the victim to be oblivious to an injury. It also contained anti-coagulants so that even a minor wound would cause the victim to bleed out before they even realized they were hurt.

“We gotta get you back to the Crest,” Din ordered. “Drop Slan and get on your speeder now.”

“No!” she cried. “We are not leaving him here for anyone to take! Give me something to use as a tourniquet.”

“That’s not going to stop it,” Din argued as he quickly ripped a strip of cloth off from the bottom his cloak. He wrapped it around her upper thigh.

“Make it tight as you can,” she said as Din crossed the ends in a knot. “I know,” he grunted as he cinched the knot tight with all his strength. “Can you feel that?”

“No!”

“Good, ‘cause that has to hurt. Get on your speeder!” he urged.

“Not without Slan!” She reached down to grab Slan’s arm and started pulling him toward her bike.

“Damnit, Calista, what good is Slan if you end up as dead as him?”

Calista didn’t reply, but continued dragging the body. Din growled in frustration but grabbed Slan’s other arm and yanked him towards the speeders. “Let go of him, I’ll do it. You need to keep your heart rate down.” Calista complied.

“I’ll get the bikes warmed up.” She accessed the control panel from her wrist and started up the engines. Din reached his speeder first and unceremoniously dumped the body onto the back seat. “I’ll take him. You go in front of me. Get to the ship as fast as you can.”

She nodded and climbed onto her speeder. She was starting to feel lightheaded now. Calista glanced down at the back of her leg. The tourniquet had slowed the bleeding somewhat, but she could see blood oozing through the strip of Din’s cloak wrapped tightly around her thigh. They sped back to the Razor Crest, the low visibility from the blizzard making the going slow. When the ship finally came in view, Din lowered the ramp from his vambrace. Calista stopped her speeder alongside the ship and dismounted, and then quickly stumbled to the ground.

“Calista!” Din cried. He slammed his speeder to a halt and Slan’s body flew off the bike, crashing into the side of the Crest. He ran over to Calista and lifted her up.

“Come on, we gotta get you on the ship.”

“Get Slan,” she said woozily.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Din insisted.

Din carried her into the ship’s hold and pushed a button on the side of one of the bulkheads, releasing a metal slab. He gently laid her on the makeshift table and rushed over to the storage cabinet containing his medical supplies. He rummaged through one of the drawers, internally noting that he really needed to restock his provisions. He quickly grabbed a vitals censor, cauterizer and a canister half-full of bacta spray, before running back over to her.

“I’ve gotta turn you over,” he apologized as he flipped Calista over onto her stomach. Using his vibro-knife, he cut off the tourniquet and her thigh-armor strap, before ripping open her blood-drenched legging. The cut was about sixteen centimeters in length, and not particularly deep, but it was leaking copious amounts of bright red blood. “I’m gonna cauterize it now,” Din said, as he turned on the switch. Calista’s skin hissed as it came in contact with the instrument’s electrified tip and the hold was soon filled with the acrid scent of burning flesh.

“I think it’s working,” Din called to her, “the bleeding is slowing a little. I’m gonna need to make another pass with the cauterizer. You still not feeling anything?”

Calista did not answer.

“Calista, you still with me?” Din shook her shoulders.

“Unhhh….” she groaned.

“Stay with me,” he ordered. He finished the second pass of the cauterizer. The bleeding had slowed but blood still oozed up from the scorched wound. “Shit. Ok, I’m going to try the bacta.” Din sprayed a generous amount of bacta into the slice. He waited a few seconds before hanging his head in dismay as more blood bubbled up. Din sprayed the rest of the canister into the wound, silently cursing his limited pharmacy.

“I need coagulants, do you have any med supplies?”

Calista was silent.

Din suddenly remembered the containers Calista had brought the first night she came aboard the Crest. He ran to her storage crates, pulling down the top box and rummaged through its contents. To his dismay, it contained only weapons. He pulled down the next container; it was a freezer containing food items. “Fuck,” he growled, pulling down the third, which contained surveillance equipment. Finally, in the fourth container, he found what he was looking for: Calista had a well-supplied box full of bacta sprays and patches, bandages and wraps, and numerous vials and medicine jars. He sorted through the bottles haphazardly before finally stumbling on a small, dark jar labeled as a generic coagulant. He helped himself to a syringe and rushed back to Calista’s side, jabbing the needle into the bottle before plunging it into her thigh just above the wound.

“Calista, I gotta put this vitals scanner on your neck. I’m going to remove your cape and armor, ok? I won’t touch your helm.”

She did not respond.

Din unfastened the magnetic bindings on her chest armor and pulled the back plate off. He reached under her neck and released the fastener on her cape, sliding it off her back and onto the floor. He unfastened the neck seal of her tunic, exposing her pale, smooth skin. He stuck the small, metal disc on her neck and watched as it holo-projected Calista’s vitals. Her blood pressure and heart rate were critically low, and she had lost nearly six units of blood. Din swiped the hologram to the left to access the treatment suggestions. “Blood transfusion” was at the top of the list. _No shit_. He knew he didn’t have any packs of blood and he didn’t see any in her container, although he had spotted a set of tubing. He would have to donate himself.

Din retrieved the tubing from Calista’s container. To his relief, it contained a filter kit, which would cleanse his blood from any major contaminants and remove any incompatible antigens before entering her bloodstream. Using his knife to cut a slit in the crook of the elbow of both his and Calista’s padded shirts, he then connected the silicone tubing to the filter. He flipped Calista over onto her back after noting with satisfaction that the blood had all but stopped oozing from the now closing wound. He pulled two needles out from the packaging and inserted one into the vein in Calista’s left arm. Din did the same to himself before switching on the pump. He watched as the filter pulled dark red blood from his arm, swirled around in the sifter, and finally disappeared into Calista. Din sighed and pulled over a crate to use as a stool. Exhausted, he sat down and rested his tubed-arm on the table alongside Calista before cradling his head in the palm of his other hand.

********************************************************************

“Din.”

“Din.”

“Din Djarin!”

Din groaned and raised his head. He felt lightheaded and his right arm had fallen asleep on the table from the weight of his helmet pressing on it. Calista was half sitting up on the table, staring at him intently.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she asked as she lowered her gaze, fidgeting with the tubing connect to her arm. “You didn’t set the limit on the blood filter. The max you are supposed to donate is two units, and you’ve already donated over four to me. If I hadn’t woken up a few minutes ago, you could’ve bled out.” She pulled the tubing out of her arm and reached for Din. “Here, let me take this out for you.” She pulled at Din’s sleeve until he laid his arm in her lap, allowing her to remove his tubing.

“I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to worry about it,” Din retorted as her soft hands gently placed a small bandage over the prick in his arm. “Your vitals were crashing.”

She harrumphed and eased herself off the table.

“You look better,” he pronounced as he slowly got to his feet.

“My leggings are blood-soaked and in tatters, and half my armor is off. I don’t suppose I could look much worse. Where’s Slan?”

“Still outside. I’ll go bring him in and get us off this frozen rock. You go take care of yourself.”

Din turned to head down the ramp but Calista grabbed his arm, pulling him back to face her. He stopped and looked down at her in surprise as she slowly reached up to place her hands on either side of his helm before tilting his head down to touch hers.

“Thank you, Din Djarin,” she said quietly, holding him in the embrace. “You saved my life.”

A warmth spread through Din’s chest and he felt his heart flutter at her touch. He gently brushed his fingers against her arms and raised his hands to rest against the side of her helm. The gesture, while so simple, was the most intimate contact he’d felt in a long time. He longed to prolong it, even as he released her.

“You’re welcome.”

***************************************************

Din was already nearing the hyperspace lane by the time Calista climbed up into the cockpit. She had replaced her clothes and cleaned her helm, but she was wearing no other armor as she sat into the seat behind him. Several long, blond braids flowed past her shoulders from underneath her helmet. 

“Where to now?” she asked as he punched the controls into hyperdrive.

“My Guild chapter is on Er’Kit. I’ll collect the reward and refuel there. Where’s your client?”

“Da Soocha III, but why would we want to go there?” she asked quizzically.

“For your reward. If you still want it.”

She stared back at him blankly.

“I should’ve figured Slan would refuse to be taken in alive,” he clarified. “Can’t say I blame him. Whoever got their hands on him wouldn’t have made it a quick death. But now that he’s dead, there’s no reason we can’t both collect the reward.”

“How do you figure? We only have one body for proof of termination. Your Guild and my client are each going to want it.”

“Well… we now have two proofs of termination currently frozen in carbonite. You want his head or his body?”

Calista laughed. “I’ll be damned, I don’t even want to know how you managed that. He must’ve been frozen stiff after being out there all that time in the storm.”

“Yeah, he was.”

She stood up and put her hand on his shoulder. Din froze with anticipation that she might initiate further physical contact, but to his disappointment, she let go and slid back down the ladder.

“I’ll make dinner,” she called.

He let out a long exhale.

**********************************************************

That night, Din removed his armor and sat on the bed in his small cabin with a groan. His muscles ached from the day’s events and he felt fatigued from the unexpected blood loss. That’s not what bothered him though, he decided as he carefully inspected and cleaned his armor before storing it away for the night. He could handle physical pain and exhaustion without a second thought. Rather, it was his unexpected emotions towards Calista that were causing him grief.

Din was used to being alone; in fact, he thrived on it, he told himself. He did his job and did it well: traveling the outer territories in search of bounties, fighting tooth and nail to capture his quarry, and bringing in enough credits to support himself and donate the rest to his covert. He had few friends, and none with anyone outside of his enclave, but that never bothered him. Having no significant attachments meant worrying about no one, disappointing no one, and not having to worry about being disappointed by others. No attachments meant no one could hurt him. At least, not emotionally, anyway.

That’s not to say he didn’t crave physical interactions. On the contrary, he enjoyed intimacy with women (if he could call a quick, paid-for fuck, intimate) and visited various brothels throughout the Outer Rim with some regularity. But he had never before faced the feelings and emotions he was currently experiencing towards Calista. Just the thought of her put him on pins and needles. He craved more and not just physical contact, although he definitely wasn’t opposed to that either. The thought of her leaving now that the chase was over tore at something deep in his stomach and he didn’t know what to do about it.

A soft knock outside his door pulled him from his reverie.

“Yeah,” he called out.

“You still awake?”

“Yeah, hang on.” Din placed his helmet over his head and opened the door. Calista stood outside, leaning against the bulkhead.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. Did I wake you?”

“No. You wanna come in?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said as she entered the room. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“Yes, much better.” She looked around the small cabin, which was not much more than an oversized cot and two storage lockers. “I’ve never been in here before.”

“Make yourself comfortable. I’d give you a tour, but…” Din motioned around the tiny room with his arm.

Calista snickered and sank down onto the bed. “It’s nice,” she remarked.

Din sat down next to her on the bed, his thigh resting alongside hers. Neither wore their armor, and he could feel the heat radiating off her body. “It’s not and you know it. But it serves its purpose.”

Calista placed her hand on top of his and he looked over at her in surprise. She stared back at him. A few seconds of silence passed, before he slowly turned his hand over and intertwined her fingers in his. Her skin was warm and smooth.

“Is this all you want?” she asked. “Just enough to get by and exist. To endlessly keep hunting. Is there nothing more you desire?”

“I can think of a few things I desire,” he said dryly, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

“That’s ambitious, considering the amount of blood you lost today,” she retorted and he huffed. “I’m being serious. What do you hope for in the dark of space, when you are all alone?”

He exhaled. “To fulfill the tenets of the Creed. To live and die with honor. This is the way.”

“This is the way, of course. But is there nothing more than that?”

“I don’t…I…what else is there?” he stammered.

“Love. A family. A true connection with your tribe; more than just stopping by the covert a few times a year to donate credits or repair armor.” she countered.

He paused. “I’ve never thought much about it,” he admitted. “I don’t see that as being me.” Even as he said it, he wondered if that was still true. Calista was bringing out so many unfamiliar sensations in him that he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Pity,” she said softly. “I think you have so much good to share. It saddens me that you choose to live locked away on this ship.”

“I don’t want your pity,” he said roughly, shaking his head. “Then what do you want?” she challenged.

Something clenched deep inside his stomach. “I want to kiss you.” Her fingers involuntarily tightened around his own. “Will you let me?” he rasped as he grasped her upper arm with his free hand.

“Turn off the lights.”

Din reached over Calista’s shoulder and flicked off the switch. Darkness fully enveloped the room as he sat back on the bed and turned to face her. He heard her remove her helmet and he quickly pulled off his, placing it gently on the floor beside the bed. He reached out to touch her, but Calista’s hands found his face first. She caressed his stubble-lined cheeks and palmed her hands through his hair before resting her fingertips on his jawline. He let out an involuntary sob and Calista pulled his face towards hers, their lips meeting for the first time.

In the days afterward, when he had plenty of time to ruminate alone in his cockpit, Din could not recall how long they kissed; it could have been a minute or possibly hours. All he remembered was the pure ecstasy of the feel of her mouth on his, the sweet, intoxicating taste of her filling his body, overpowering his senses, and turning his blood to fire.

They finally broke away, gasping and breathless. Their lips were numb and tingling, but their bodies craved more. Clothes were swiftly discarded and hands explored flesh, tentatively at first but quickly becoming more urgent. Soft curves and hard muscle alike were reverently caressed and tasted, until all that remained to be completed was the meeting of their molten cores.

“Why are you stopping?” Calista groaned as Din moved his body away from her urging hands.

“I’ve got contraception in here somewhere…it’s so damn dark…” he panted.

“I have an implant…” Din froze. “I mean, unless you don’t want…”

Din never got to hear Calista finish saying what he might not want as his lips crashed into hers. She breathed a sigh of pleasure into his mouth as his strong hands parted her thighs. Calista grabbed his hips and pulled him over her, guiding him to her center. They joined in a collective moan, moving and breathing as one, impossible to determine where one stopped and the other began. And in the end, they reached the pinnacle together, jerking and shuddering in concert, before drifting to sleep in a tangle of sweaty, naked limbs.

They both woke with a start to the hyperspace alarm announcing their arrival to Er’Kit. Din stumbled off the bed as he fumbled around for his clothes. “Fuck,” he said as he hit the floor, “I can’t see shit.”

Calista laughed, her voice muffled. “I’m fully covered with the blanket, you can turn the light on.”

Din flicked on the lights and collected his clothes, which had been strewn haphazardly around the room. He quickly dressed and placed his helmet over his head. He gazed appreciatively at Calista’s outline covered in his blanket on his bed.

“I’m heading up to the cockpit, you’re safe to come out.” He reached over and squeezed a tantalizing curve, earning him a squeal and a kick.

*************************************************************

Din returned Slan’s body to the Guild on Er’Kit, collecting the generous reward as well as the associated merits for capturing a high-profile bounty. After re-fueling the Crest and re-stocking some much-needed supplies in the busy market, Din took off for the short, two-hour jump to Da Soocha III.

Din sat in his customary pilot’s chair, his hands expertly guiding the Crest into hyperspace. After ensuring the ship was safely on autopilot, he hopped down the cockpit ladder, landing lightly on his feet. Calista was in the hold, packing and organizing her supply crates. Din leaned against a bulkhead, crossing his hands in front of him.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“I don’t know how I managed to scatter so much stuff throughout such a small ship,” she dodged, not meeting his gaze.

“Wasn’t my question.”

Calista sighed and looked up. “Of course I’m going somewhere. Job’s done and I’ve got a ship that’s sitting in dock, waiting to be repaired.”

“And after that?”

“I’ll go back to my covert. Why the sudden interrogation?”

“I thought you might want to help me take on another bounty or two. I picked up two more pucks on Er-Kit. We can share the reward and… ”

“I don’t make a habit of being a bounty hunter,” Calista said, cutting him off,” and I already have a crew when I choose to work. And anyways, you live and work alone, right? That’s how you like it?”

Calista returned her attention to packing her belongings. Din opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he was suddenly overwhelmed and distraught at the thought of her leaving. Well, he did know, deep down. But he wasn’t ready to face those feelings yet.

“I booked passage to Rynock, so once we get to Soocha, you can drop me off and get back to the hunt,” she said quietly.

“I was planning on returning you to Rynock,” he protested. “You don’t need to take a transport.”

“I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to than being my chauffeur.”

“Calista, really, it’s not a problem,” he argued. He secretly hoped that if she would stay on board just a little longer, she would somehow decide to stay. “Why are you being like this?”

“Din,” she sighed. “Look. This arrangement was born out of mutual necessity, correct? Last night was great, but we were both coming off a serious adrenaline rush from the chase and needed a release. I don’t want to stick around just to be your convenient fuck buddy, fun as that might be.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he blustered.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I...What do you…I don’t…” He huffed and threw his hands up in frustration.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Calista knelt back down to return to her crates. Dismayed, Din turned and climbed back up into the cockpit.

Din landed in the shipyard on Da Soocha III and returned to the hold, where Calista was already waiting by the loading ramp with her stacked crates. He released the carbonite slab holding Slan’s head and engaged the anti-gravity boosters, leading the slab off the ramp and onto the thick grass covering the shipyard.

“Want me to wait here with your things while you meet with your client?” Din asked as Calista removed her belongings from the ship.

“No, it’s alright, I just hired a hovercart.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I can…”

“No, Din, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.” She waved her arm, motioning to a dock worker approaching on a hovercart. “Over here!”

Din watched as the worker quickly loaded her cargo onto the hovercart. “Where am I taking you?” the dock worker asked Calista.

“The Esyx Compound one klick outside of town,” she replied, before turning around to face Din. Calista reached out and clasped his lower arm with her own. He squeezed her elbow back, trying to convey all of his feelings to her in his tight grip.

“Vor entye, verd. Re’turcye mhi,” she said. Calista released his arm, climbed aboard the hovercart, and looked towards town.

Din stood on the ramp and watched her leave the shipyard, but she never turned back around. He returned to the cockpit and initiated the Crest’s start-up sequence. He pulled out one of the pucks he picked up and activated the holoprojection. An image of a snarling Rodian popped up.

“To Rodia it is,” he said, hitting the ignition switch. The Crest roared to life and soared into the air, quickly leaving Da Soocha III, and Calista, behind, as a no more than a memory.

END PART ONE


End file.
